The Arab Spring began a year ago, ushering in an era of revolution and protest. In the third of a six-part series, the National Post’s Sarah Boesveld explains how Libyans’ long-simmering rage boiled over.

The seeds of Libya’s uprising were planted 15 years ago when stories of cold-blooded murder began to seep from the nation’s most notorious prison.

In 1996, more than 1,270 political prisoners were killed at the Tripoli detention centre, shot to death by the henchmen of Colonel Muammar Gaddafi.

Their families knew nothing about their fate until 2001, when the government acknowledged at least some of what’s now considered one of the most horrific crimes against humanity under the Gaddafi regime.

Fathi Terbil, 39, a human rights lawyer in Benghazi, became leader of a legal team representing the slain prisoners’ families. Protests were planned for mid-February in the eastern Libya city and Mr. Terbil was preparing to begin a court case examining the Abu Salim massacre. He planned to demand compensation — and answers — for the families.

He was deemed a brave soul for agreeing to do so. On Feb. 15, he was arrested by government officials.

Then something extraordinary happened, protesters say.

Mr. Terbil’s mother ran out into the street and made the first call to action. “Wake up, wake up oh Benghazi,” she shouted. “This is the night that we’ve been waiting for.”

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Members of his legal team soon joined her. So did the victims’ families, many of whom had quietly protested outside the same Benghazi courthouse every Saturday since 2007.

Pretty soon, 500 to 600 people were there, calling for the release of Mr. Terbil and, in effect, for an end to the Gaddafi regime and its brutal actions over more than 40 years of rule — actions that include not just the prison massacre, but the killings of other dissenters and the overall denial of democracy in a country run by fear.

Police broke up the protests during a crackdown that injured many. But the demonstrators persisted, holding a “Day of Rage” on Feb. 17. They were encouraged by the uprisings in Tunisia and Egypt, which speedily led to the departures of presidents Zine al Abidine Ben-Ali and Hosni Mubarak respectively.

No one knew it back then, but the protests after Mr. Terbil’s arrest were the beginning of the end for the Gaddafi regime. They would birth a revolution that would heavily depend on Western forces, eventually kill about 30,000 Libyans, including the disreputable dictator, and spark the hope of a new future for the fragmented North African nation.

“[Mr. Terbil] was the lynchpin for the whole uprising because the arrest kind of galvanized all the contradictions and all the resentments due to the fact that the regime did not rationally address all of these unresolved grievances,” said Ali Abdullatif Ahmida, chair of the political science program at the University of New England in Biddeford, Me., and author of numerous books and articles on Libya.

The cause the human rights lawyer represented was symbolic of the long-simmering tensions in Libya, which were now reaching a boiling point, he said.

“None of us had any idea that it would be the catalyst for anger in the regime,” said Dr. Andrew McGregor, a North African specialist and senior editor of the Global Terrorism Monitor for the Washington-based Jamestown Foundation.

“The funny thing about that massacre is that it revealed the brutality of the regime. It also demonstrated the willingness of the regime to play an important role in beating back the forces of political Islam.”

Most revolutions are planned, plotted and crafted years in advance, he added. The Libyan uprising was swift and unexpected.

And it was determined. People in Benghazi used smartphone cameras to document the protests and subsequent violence, posting videos on social media when the Gaddafi regime imposed a news blackout. They knew the world was watching.

When the violence made it to Tripoli, Col. Gaddafi’s son Saif al-Islam took to the airwaves to defend his father. The death toll began to rise as the regime became more defiant and retaliatory.

In March, Barack Obama, the U.S. President, said Col. Gaddafi had “lost the legitimacy to lead,” and the UN said member states could establish a no-fly zone over Libya and use “all necessary measures” to protect civilians as government troops re-took liberated eastern cities and attacked Benghazi.

“When it started, the slogan was Libyans can do it for themselves,” Dr. McGregor said. “But western intervention was absolutely necessary.”

Nearly 20 NATO-member nations — chief among them France, Britain, the U.S. and Canada — helped defend the rebels. Their air strikes hit targets across the country, including an April 30 attack on a house in Tripoli that killed Col. Gaddafi’s youngest son and his three grandchildren.

Barely two weeks later, the International Criminal Court’s chief prosecutor sought arrest warrants against Col. Gaddafi for crimes against humanity — by now, many of his close advisors and loyalists had jumped ship. Through it all, the Libyan leader remained defiant and unwilling to flee.

“I thought this would happen quickly like it did in Egypt,” said Amal Abuzgaya, spokeswoman for the Toronto chapter of the Canadian Libyan Congress.

“Ultimately everyone knew inside Gaddafi wasn’t going to go without a fight…. I’m sure some part of him loved every minute of it, the entire world paying attention to him.”

The embattled ruler held on for nearly two months after the rebel-led National Transitional Council, now viewed by western powers as the legitimate government, overran his compound in Tripoli.

On Oct. 20, Col. Gaddafi was captured in his hometown Sirte and shot dead, allegedly with one of his own gilded guns.

While many celebrated the dictator’s death, others, such as Prof. Ahmida, felt he should have been tried “to show him that Libya can give him the justice he denied the Libyan people.”

Just shy of a month before his death, a mass grave was uncovered next to Abu Salim. The crumbling bones are believed to be all that’s left of the political prisoners Mr. Terbil and the protesters have been advocating for.

Mr. Terbil is now minister of youth and sport in the new transitional government.

The NTC is meant to hand power over to a 200-member elected government in the next seven to eight months. But until the numerous militias, many of them stationed in Tripoli, are disarmed, unrest and violence will persist, experts say.

“Everyone basically wants a slice of the pie now,” said Dr. McGregor, referring to the myriad armed groups in a country divided by tribes. The transitional government’s influence has waned in Tripoli as of late. Now, those with the guns — the Islamist militias and the military council from Zintan, about 160 kilometres from Tripoli — hold the power in the capital.

“You have so many different factions right now at work in Tripoli, there’s no cohesive group willing to take control of the state and start directing it in a certain way,” he said.

“I think it’s a safe prediction there will be tremendous infighting over the constitution, over the division of wealth and resources.”

Prof. Ahmida fears a thirst for vengeance will overwhelm a nation battered by injustice.

“People are human and the wounds are still very raw,” he said.

“The long-term interest of the Libyan people is to have reconciliation and political compromise and that has to be debated, has to be aired out and people have to vent their concerns.”

For Ms. Abuzgaya and others who support the revolution’s new mandate, the future looks rocky, yet bright.

“It’s not going to be perfect tomorrow, it’s not going to be perfect in a year or five,” she said.